Searching in the Dark
by Christine Eponine Watson
Summary: John has always claimed to be "not gay" and for a while, Sherlock didn't care. Then he started having feelings that he was unfamiliar with for his flat mate. Love is a confusing concept. It complicates friendships, breaks hearts, and gives joy more powerful than any other. Basically, love complicates everything, especially for Sherlock Holmes. Rating will eventually go up.
1. Introduction

This is not actually the first chapter, but it's really important and the real first chapter will come soonish. If the description intrigues you and you think you might want to read the story, please, please, **please** read this.

I originally started this fanfic with the title Defying the Laws of Fiction, but complications with my co-author arose and it required an entire rewriting of the story (even separating the plot I have in mind from the original concept), so here we are. I'm going to warn you right now that this story will cause major, for lack of a better word, feels. I'm really good at writing depressing, heartbreaking stories, but this one will have a happy ending, so hopefully you won't give up on me.

A few really important notes:

School ends for me on the 12th of June, so the first chapter will be posted shortly after that. Or sooner, since I started writing it today.I have the entire plot figured out, though occasional changes are made and parts outline I created for this story is actually a playlist on Spotify that is currently 184 songs long.

Now, to address the third note, I am not going to give each song its own chapter every time, though that will happen occasionally, depending on the song. I am going to open each chapter with a few lines from one or more of the songs that I feel best summarizes the chapter. I am not going to give the name of the song because I would like you, dear readers, to guess and leave comments with your guesses. Everyone who correctly guesses the song title will get a shout out in the note for the next chapter. I'm also going to create a companion piece for this fanfic that explains why I chose each song on the playlist and what it signifies in relation to the plot. You don't need to read it if you're not interested because it will be **long**.

I'm also posting it on Archive of Our Own. My pen name on there is Christine_Eponine_Watson.

I hope you enjoy my story and thank you so much for taking the time to read this.

~Christine Éponine Watson


	2. Something New

_It may seem to you that I'm acting confused _  
_When you're close to me _  
_If I tend to look dazed I've read it someplace _  
_I've got cause to be _  
_There's a name for it _  
_There's a phrase that fits _  
_But whatever the reason you do it for me_

_What's love got to do, got to do with it? _  
_What's love but a second hand emotion? _  
_What's love got to do, got to do with it? _  
_Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?_

* * *

It started with a smile. Just a simple smile that John sent his way had Sherlock's heart fluttering. He didn't know why and, rather than admit his ignorance by asking someone, Sherlock filed the feeling away in his Mind Palace in the room labeled "John."

Next was a touch. A brief brush of hands during a case had Sherlock's cheeks heating up, though he managed to suppress the flush — he would _never_ admit to blushing, especially for no apparent reason — before John or anyone else saw. He filed away the entire experience away in his Mind Palace.

Then there was a laugh. John had been making tea and had dropped the tea pot, shattering it into a plethora of tiny pieces. John had, unsurprisingly, been cursing up a storm, but Sherlock had only laughed. Not chuckled, not scoffed; laughed. He was actually doubled over from the force of his laughter, earning him a scowl from John, which only made him laugh harder.

Then he said thank you. John had given him a cup of tea and he had said "thank you." Sherlock _NEVER_ said thank you. A "thank you" from Sherlock was even more rare than a laugh or a blush.

The thing that made Sherlock finally admit to himself that something was changing was a dream. The dream started like so many others he'd had in that he and John were running through the streets of London after a criminal. Sherlock had almost caught the culprit when he realized that he couldn't hear John's footsteps beside him. He turned, looking for his only friend, and noticed that he was suddenly standing in a meadow. With John. Sherlock didn't particularly care for meadows, they were just grass and flowers, nothing exceptional, but this one was. It was exceptional because John was standing in front of him, closer than he ever had before. _John, what are you...?_ And then he couldn't finish his question because John was kissing him. Sherlock stood frozen for a while before his body decided that it wanted to kiss back and wrap its arms around John's waist. The next thing he knew, they were back in their flat, in his bed, arms around each other, but nothing more intimate happened because Sherlock was a virgin and had deleted anything he had learned about "sex" in favor of more important things, like the many different types of ash. He was actually surprised to wake alone. Surprised and disappointed. That was when he realized he needed to figure out what the hell was happening to him.

First, he tried analyzing the dream and searching his Mind Palace for clues. That turned out to be a dead end. Then he tried the internet, but all of the results were impossible. The internet had never failed him before, but he couldn't possibly be in love with John. It was absolutely impossible for _Sherlock Holmes_, self-proclaimed sociopath, to be in love with anything other than his work.

Since the internet had failed him, he did something absolutely horrifying and humiliating: he asked Lestrade. The bastard had actually _laughed at him_ when he told him everything that had happened, especially the part about refusing to believe the internet. Graham or Gavin or whatever his name was had told Sherlock exactly what the internet had said. (Sherlock couldn't be bothered to remember his first name, especially after he found out that the man he had almost considered a friend was dating his brother, which was beyond disgusting. John had rolled his eyes when Sherlock had complained relentlessly about how he would be sick after what's-his-first-name Lestrade had told them. John was convinced they were a "sweet couple," but Sherlock disagreed vehemently. There was nothing sweet about his brother. Sherlock hadn't gone to a crime scene for a full week after he found out about them. After a week, the boredom was eating him alive and so he reluctantly left the flat, though he still refused to make eye contact with the traitor.)

Sherlock still refused to believe it, despite his logical mind telling him that it was very plausible. He just couldn't be in love. Not only was he a sociopath who had never been interested in anyone, (which wasn't entirely true, but he refused to admit that the debacle with Victor Trevor had ever happened,) John wasn't gay. Even if Sherlock had _Feelings_ for him, John would never return them, so there was no use in acknowledging these nonexistent _Feelings_. So Sherlock ignored them. Unsuccessfully. The little buggers just wouldn't give up until Sherlock admitted out loud (thankfully, John wasn't at the flat at the time) that he... cared... for John.

Now he had a new problem. Should he tell John? If so, how?

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Sorry, this chapter was a little (well, a lot) shorter than I had hoped, but at least it's something, right?**

**Also, if you guess the song title correctly, you get a shout out! You can also have a shout out if you leave a review because it makes me happy.**


	3. Confusion

_"Then at last, a voice in the gloom _  
_Seemed to cry "I hear you; _  
_I hear your fears, _  
_Your torment and your tears." _  
_[He] saw my loneliness _  
_Shared in my emptiness _  
_No one would listen _  
_No one but [he] _  
_Heard as the outcast hears"_

_"Don't you think it's rather funny _  
_I should be in this position? _  
_I'm the one who's always been _  
_So calm, so cool, no lover's fool _  
_Running every show _  
_He scares me so."_

_"I'm running and not quite sure where to go _  
_And I don't know what I'm diving into"_

* * *

_Now he had a new problem. Should he tell John? If so, how?_

* * *

Sherlock was no idiot, obviously, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was at Anderson-level ignorance. Sherlock knew he couldn't just tell John. _That_ would be an interesting conversation. _"Good morning, Sherlock. Fancy a cuppa?" "John, I love you." _Yep, _that_ would work _perfectly_. John would just leap into his arms and teach him what would have happened in his dream had he any knowledge of it.

Since he obviously couldn't go for the direct approach, he had several options to choose from. One: he could pretend that nothing had changed. Two: he could go to a "friend" and ask for help. Three: he could try to subtly hint at his feelings, which would require loads of research. Four: he could delete everything related to his feelings for John so they could continue as friends, colleagues, and flat mates. The fourth option was the most logical, but for some reason, the idea of forgetting this annoying, impossible, irresistible feeling was unbearable, so that one was out. He had never been one for subtlety, he had just as much tact as a bulldozer demolishing a house without the owner's consent to make room for a bypass, so the third option was most definitely out. This left the first and second options. The last time he had asked a "friend" for help had been a disaster, so that option was out. Leaving only the first: pretend that nothing had changed. So that's what he did.

It worked for about a week.

That week was torture. John was just so _enticing_ and everything he did seemed to only make Sherlock want him more, even wearing those ridiculous jumpers, which was entirely new to the detective. It got harder and harder to conceal his feelings until he was certain that John would figure it out, but he never did. Apparently John was more oblivious than Sherlock had anticipated. The worst part was the stress of trying to hide how he felt. The tension became so intense that _anything_ would be better than waiting and not knowing.

So he went to Molly.

* * *

Molly hadn't been surprised when Sherlock showed up at the morgue without forewarning. He did that a lot. The surprising part was when he started _talking_ to her. He hardly ever talked to her. At first, she was really hopeful and excited that maybe, just maybe, she had a chance with him.

"I need your help, Molly," Sherlock admitted reluctantly. He hated _detested_ asking for help.

Molly's heart beat faster and she smiled at him shyly. "What do you need, Sherlock?" she asked. Maybe he was asking her out on a date...

Sherlock took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking. "I need... advice..." he said slowly. Molly's hope increased. "About John." Molly's face fell in obvious disappointment. She still wasn't completely without hope. "I... I think I... well... I... I love him." And there went all of Molly's hope. Sherlock would never love her.

"You... you're gay?" she asked, sounding much more disappointed than surprised. Sherlock had expected surprise.

"Not exactly," Sherlock said, his tone the one he used when making deductions. "I'm not attracted to men in general, only Joh- are you crying?" Sherlock's brows furrowed as Molly quickly dried her eyes.

"I... something just got in my eye..." Molly lied, sniffling. Sherlock could tell in an instant that she was lying, but he didn't really care, so he didn't press further.

"So, will you help me?" he asked demanded. It wasn't meant to come out as that impatient, but it did.

* * *

John had noticed that Sherlock had been acting strange lately, even for him. He seemed to stare at John more and was acting more interested in John's needs and feelings. If it was anyone _other_ than Sherlock Holmes, it wouldn't be concerning, but it was very uncharacteristic of him, which generally meant that something was very not good. When Sherlock returned from the morgue, he was back to his usual, inconsiderate, immature self, so John brushed the whole experience aside. Life continued on as it had for a few days.

Then the day came when everything changed.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Next chapter is where it gets interesting. *evil grin* You poor dearies, you have no idea what's coming... *maniacal laughter***

**Thank you to AgeOfDarkness413, ParaGhost, and jael33 for reviewing and to jael33 for correctly guessing the song. The song, kind of obviously, was "What's Love Got To Do With It" by Tina Turner.  
**

**This chapter, you get selections from _three_ songs. In case you don't already know, you get a shout out if you guess the titles correctly, but you have to leave a review to get the shout out.**

**Please leave a review and thank you for reading!**


	4. Near Misses

**Author's Note: ****Well, this is a bit awkward. I was so impatient to get to my favorite part of the story (yay for tumultuous emotions!) that I didn't develop the story nearly as much as I should have beforehand, so you're all off the hook (for now). I changed the end of the previous chapter, so you might want to check it out. There will be lots more before we get to the things I have planned.**

**Also, if the chemistry in this chapter doesn't work, deal with it. I'm not going to change it so there's no point in pointing it out.**

* * *

_"...The way I feel inside._

_The love I have to hide..."_

_"I was made to believe I'd never love somebody else _  
_Made a plan, stay the man who can only love himself_  
_Lonely was the song I sang_  
_'Til the day you came_  
_Showing me another way_  
_And all that my love can bring"_

_"My gift is my song and this one's for you_  
_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._  
_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_  
_That I put down in words_  
_How wonderful life is now you're in the world"_

* * *

Life continued on as it had, though beneath the surface, everything had changed.

* * *

John hated it when people assumed that he and Sherlock were a couple. It ruined his chances with women. That was why he hated it. Also, he was not gay, though Mrs. Hudson was convinced otherwise. That didn't mean he was entirely straight. There had been this one time at university when he'd given his dorm mate a blowjob, but that was just experimenting that everyone does at uni. He didn't want a relationship with a man. If he'd started using his vibrator more often since moving in with Sherlock, that was entirely coincidental. He was just relieved Sherlock hadn't found it. The tosser would probably wind up telling everyone at a crime scene like the time he had mentioned the types of sex positions he'd deduced John most enjoyed because it was "relevant to the case."

John had refused to speak to Sherlock for two whole days after that incident, which Sherlock hadn't liked at all. Seriously, the man was like a cat sometimes. Whenever people gave him attention, he was dismissive of them, but when he was ignored, he demanded attention and went to great lengths to get it.

Sherlock was both an incredible nuisance and the best friend John had ever had, though he would never tell Sherlock that. The man didn't need his ego inflated. John didn't quite know why he valued Sherlock so much. Actually, he did know, just not consciously. He his his feelings for Sherlock from everyone, especially himself.

* * *

The first time Sherlock nearly accidentally let John know was at a crime scene.

It was a Saturday and there was a double homicide. Sherlock had been thrilled, but when they arrived at the scene, he was having difficulty focusing. It was all John's fault. John had bent over to examine the bodies and Sherlock couldn't stop himself from staring at John's arse. He'd never found arses attractive before, but John's was. Lestrade had done a very poor job of hiding his laughter. Sherlock managed to tear his eyes away from John to glare at him, but that only made Lestrade laugh a bit harder.

"Shut up," Sherlock mumbled, irritated beyond belief with the traitor. John turned and looked up at them and Lestrade laughed some more at Sherlock's pout, knowing it was because John's arse was no longer visible.

"What's so funny?" John asked, looking between the two men.

"Oh, just Sherlock being, well, Sherlock," Lestrade said, smirking. He winked at Sherlock when the detective shot him another glare.

John looked even more confused. "Seriously, what did I miss?" he asked. This was weird, even where Sherlock was concerned.

Sherlock's glare clearly conveyed a message to its target: _'tell him anything and I'll kill you.'_

Lestrade decided that it wasn't worth the risk. "It's nothing, John," he said dismissively.

John didn't believe it for a moment, but he decided not to press further.

* * *

The second time was in their flat.

Sherlock was experimenting at the table, trying _not _to think about the fact that John was naked in the shower with water running down his body and... Damn. He focused even more on his experiment. He had to add _exactly_ one drop of sulfuric acid to the solution and it would be complete...

Just then, the bathroom door opened and John walked out, clad only in his towel. Sherlock froze, staring at John who, thankfully, didn't notice. The white, fluffy towel John had wrapped around his waist slipped slightly, but he caught it. He looked up at Sherlock, but just as the detective opened his mouth to make an excuse, a second drop of sulfuric acid fell into his beaker, causing a minor explosion. Sherlock instantly changed his stare to a glare.

"This is all your fault," he whined at John as he discarded the failed experiment.

John sighed in exasperation and shook his head. "_My_ fault," he protested. "How is this _my _fault?"

Sherlock continued to glare at him. "You distracted me from my experiment," he insisted.

John put his face in his hand. "You are absolutely bloody ridiculous, Sherlock Holmes," he sighed, heading up the stairs to put on clothes.

* * *

The third time was the closest yet.

Sherlock had been unable to sleep one night because a song kept playing in his Mind Palace. It originated in the "John" room. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night — it wasn't like he normally slept, but still — until he played it and heard it outside of his head. He wrapped himself up in his dressing gown and slipped out of his room, padding over to his violin. He very gingerly took the beautiful instrument out of its case, gently caressing it the way one would a lover before raising it and starting to play. It was raining outside — not a heavy rain, but a steady drizzle — and he watched the drops silently fall to the street and drip down the window pane as his music poured forth softly.

It began as a sad, slow melody, echoing the unspoken loneliness he'd felt all his life, before meeting John, that is. Gradually, it shifted to something not quite happy or joyful, but content and, most of all, full of hope. It metamorphosed once more, adding chords that hadn't been there before, adding a deep love to the melody. This song was everything he felt for John: fear, hope, love.

As the last notes faded into the quiet sounds of London at night with the soft pitter-patter of rain against pavement, Sherlock turned to put his violin back in its case and saw that John had left his room and was watching him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"That was beautiful," John murmured, blinking away the almost-tears. "Did you write it? I've never heard it before." Sherlock nodded. "Does it have a title?"

_Yes,_ Sherlock wanted to answer. _It's called "John". _"Not yet," he replied instead.

"I think it was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," John said, a small smile on his lips.

Sherlock flushed — _still not a blush_ — slightly and smiled shyly. "I wrote it for you," he said quietly. "Do you like it?"

John's smile widened. "I _love _it, Sherlock," he said, walking over to Sherlock and hugging him. "Thank you," he whispered.

Sherlock had not been hugged very often in his life, so he hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around John and hugging back. He rested his head on John's gently and took a deep breath. John smelled nice, like the cologne he used but there was something else there too, something uniquely _John_. "You're welcome," he replied. They stayed like that for a while, neither knew how long, just hugging. Sherlock was not one for displays of emotion like this, public or otherwise, but this was perfect.

John eventually pulled back slightly and they locked eyes. Sherlock's breath caught as John's eyes flickered down to his lips. As John leaned closer, Sherlock's heart pounded. John stopped moving when their lips were mere centimeters apart, as though asking for Sherlock to close the gap himself. Sherlock's mind whirred and the pounding of his heart drowned out the sound of the rain. He'd never kissed anyone before, what if he did something wrong and John left because of it? Was it worth the risk to their friendship? By the time he decided that yes, it was worth it, John was pulling away and extracting himself from the embrace. Sherlock's arms fell to his sides limply and he blinked at John, for once in his life at a loss for words.

John was blushing, his cheeks a rosy pink. "Goodnight, Sherlock," he said, hurrying back to his room and leaving Sherlock to wonder if he had just missed his only chance.

* * *

**Author's Note: Big thanks to zeldakitty, Cantuono, Serenityofthematrix, and 1butterfly_grl1 for commenting/reviewing. Biggest thanks to karuna for one of the best reviews I've ever gotten, certainly the most entertaining, and for correctly guessing all three songs! Also to Drivialida for literally the sweetest review I've ever gotten. (The end of this chapter was for you.)**

**I hope that you know the drill with the songs because I don't want to write it again. (See the previous chapters if not.)**


	5. Reflections

_"I've been meaning to tell you_  
_I've got this feelin' that won't subside_  
_I look at you and I fantasize_  
_You're mine tonight"_

_"Yes, you want her_  
_Look at her, you know you do_  
_Possible she wants you too_  
_There is one way to ask her_  
_It don't take a word_  
_Not a single word_  
_Go on and kiss the girl"_

* * *

John was blushing, his cheeks a rosy pink. "Goodnight, Sherlock," he said, hurrying back to his room and leaving Sherlock to wonder if he had just missed his only chance.

* * *

John lay awake for a while, berating himself for what he'd almost done. He was not bloody gay! He shouldn't be going around in the dead of night, nearly kissing his _male_ flat mate! But bloody hell, was Sherlock difficult to resist... from a strictly heterosexual standpoint, of course...

John decided that he needed to go on another date to get his mind off of the things he _absolutely did not _feel for his flat mate.

If the women he dated happened to be tall with dark, curly hair and icy eyes, well, it was entirely a coincidence.

* * *

Sherlock spent the entire night awake in his bed, thinking about what had almost happened between him and John. John was going to kiss him. Why hadn't John kissed him?! Why was his stupid flat mate so determined to be "not gay"?! It's not like being gay was a disease or anything. There was no reason at all for John to fight his obvious feelings. Basically, Sherlock sulked in his bed all bloody night long. That was when he came up with an idea. He would try to make John admit his feelings or kiss him. Preferably both. Again, he would go to Molly, _not_ the traitor, Lestrade. He needed advice on how to woo John. That decided, he was able to fall asleep, a grin on his face. John would be his, whether he wanted to be or not. Hell, he already was Sherlock's, he just didn't know it yet. No one would take John from him.

* * *

In the morning, Sherlock hurried out of the flat to the morgue the moment he knew Molly would be there. She jumped slightly when the door slammed open, dropping some of the thankfully not as breakable equipment on the ground in surprise.

"Oh... Sherlock... It's you..." Molly said, slightly disappointed that it wasn't Jim from IT.

"Molly, I need your... help... again... with John..." Sherlock said slowly, hating that he had to resort to asking for help from others instead of using his wonderful brain.

Molly nodded. She wasn't quite so disappointed now that she had a boyfriend of her own. "Of course, Sherlock," she said. "What do you need?"

Sherlock shifted his weight almost imperceptibly. "How do I get John to admit that he isn't entirely 'not gay?'" Sherlock demanded, still not very good at properly asking for help without being at least somewhat insulting.

Molly bit her lip, thinking. "Maybe you should just tell him how you feel..." she suggested. "Or show him, perhaps through a kiss..."

Sherlock groaned. "That would be completely idiotic!" he exclaimed. "I need him to admit it first!"

"Well, Sherlock, you can't force someone to love you," Molly told him gently. That was a lesson she'd learned the hard way.

"I never said I wanted to _force_ him to love me," Sherlock argued. "I know that he has feelings for me, I just want to manipulate him into admitting it."

Molly sighed. This was something Sherlock would never understand. "If you're not going to take my advice, maybe you shouldn't ask for it," Molly said in an attempt to be firm, but she was far too mousy and sweet to pull it off.

"Fine," Sherlock huffed. "I'll just have to figure it out by myself, then." He left without so much as a goodbye.

* * *

Sherlock walked through the streets of London slowly, ignoring the slow and steady fall of rain. As he walked, he thought over what Molly had said to him. Maybe he should tell John... But what if John rejected him? He couldn't lose his only friend.

Molly's words ran through his head almost like a mantra: _"Or show him, perhaps through a kiss..." _That was it, he decided. He'd kiss John like he'd wanted to last night. He had to time it right, though. It had to be perfect.

One kiss, and hopefully John would realize that he only really wanted Sherlock.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry it's such a short chapter. I got a great review from kittysayzmeow that made me want to update, but this is all I have the attention span to write for today.**

**Thank you to kittysayzmeow, reflectiveless, booklover22, Drivialida, iamthedaisyqueen, EJBRUSH1952, Cantuono, ill-interrogate-the-cat, Serenityofthematrix, jaimi-or-jaemi, Sigyn Holmes Laufeyson, and ParaGhost for reviewing!**

**The songs from the previous chapter, in order, are "As Long As He Needs Me" from ****_Oliver!_****, "Half of My Heart", and "Your Song". **

**Sigyn Holmes Laufeyson and Cantuono correctly guessed "Your song" and Sigyn Holmes Laufeyson actually mentioned the version of the song that I have on my playlist, which is by Ewan McGregor in ****_Moulin Rouge._**

**Thanks everyone for supporting my story!**


	6. The Calm Before the Storm

_"Oh, how could I face the faceless days_  
_If I should lose you now?"_

_"I'm running out of ways to make you see_  
_I want you to stay here beside me_  
_I won't be okay and I won't pretend I am_  
_So just tell me today and take my hand"_

_"I've never opened up to anyone_  
_So hard to hold back when I'm holding you in my arms_  
_We don't need to rush this, let's just take it slow_  
_Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight_  
_Just a touch of the fire burning so bright_  
_And I don't want to mess this thing up_  
_No, I don't want to push too far_  
_Just a shot in the dark that you just might_  
_Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life  
So baby, I'm alright with just a kiss goodnight"_

* * *

One kiss, and hopefully John would realize that he only really wanted Sherlock.

* * *

Sherlock's plans to kiss John blew up in his face. Literally.

Well, not his plans, exactly. He was bored out of his wits and shot the wall a few times. John shouted at him about the wall, the head in the fridge, the solar system... They had a row and John walked out.

Then the windows blew in.

Luckily, they got a fascinating case out of it. Even better, John ran home, worried about him. It would have been the perfect opportunity to kiss his flat mate, had his stupid bloody _brother_ not shown up with a case of his own and a gold band on his ring finger that not even John missed.

Mycroft was in the middle of trying to persuade Sherlock to take his case when John interrupted him.

"Oh my God, Greg actually proposed!" John exclaimed, earning one of the very, _very_ rare genuine smiles that very few knew Mycroft could give and only Lestrade normally got to see.

Sherlock groaned. Why the hell would anyone _want_ to be chained to his brother for life?!

* * *

Days later, Sherlock walked into the pool to meet his newest and most interesting adversary. When he saw John and thought that the only human being he could ever love was a serial killer, his heart shattered into pieces. When John opened his jacket to reveal the bomb, he was equal parts relieved and terrified. He was relieved that John was not the killer he was chasing, but terrified that he would lose John, his own life didn't matter. He'd never been this afraid in his entire life, but the thought of losing John was worse than the possibility of losing his own life.

When Moriarty got a call and left, Sherlock and John had just stood there in shock for a while. When it finally sunk in that they were safe, both men burst into relieved laughter.

"Let's go to a pub," John said when his laughter became controllable. "I could use a good drink."

Sherlock was going to decline, but thought better of it. "Alright," he agreed. After all, people tended to lose their inhibitions when they drank. This might be the chance he was waiting for.

* * *

Two hours and many, many, many drinks later, — Sherlock lost track at their third glasses, — Sherlock was extremely pissed. The most he could deduce about his surroundings was that the chairs were hard and uncomfy and the barkeep was blond like his Jawn.

John, though much more experienced at drinking than Sherlock and therefore having a better tolerance for alcohol, was also extremely drunk and not so subtly staring at Sherlock. Throughout the night, they'd migrated closer and closer together until their sides were pressed together. He didn't know which of them finally suggested going home, but the next thing he knew, they were in a cab headed back to Baker Street and his head was rested on John's lap. Apparently, his stomach did not like the combination of alcohol and motion, but John's soothing fingers massaging his scalp made it feel better.

It took forever — really only a few minutes — for John to get out his wallet to pay the cabby and by the time the disgruntled driver was on his way, Sherlock was sitting on the doorstep and practically clawing at the door, willing it to open. He looked like a cat that had been locked out in the rain. John laughed out loud.

Sherlock turned and towards John, glaring at him. "Don' laugh a' me..." he whined with a pout.

John laughed even louder and staggered over to the door, eventually managing to get the key in the keyhole. When he door was opened, Sherlock, who had been leaning against the door, fell in slightly, flailing. John helped him to his feet and they half carried each other up the stairs. About a zillion steps later, they collapsed on the sofa next to each other. Their eyes met and they burst into laughter.

"Well, this's been an a'venture," John slurred, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

Sherlock grinned at him, but his eyes were quickly drawn to John's lips, sobering him slightly. This was the perfect opportunity to kiss John, to show the only human he'd ever loved just how much he cared. They were already almost close enough for their noses to touch. It would only take the slightest amount of effort to press their lips together. John noticed the direction of his gaze and licked his lips, his own eyes drawn to Sherlock's plush, pink lips.

"Sher-" he began, but he was cut off as those beautiful lips were pressed to his.

Sherlock had never kissed anyone before in his life — not on the lips, anyway, but that hardly counted as he didn't remember it — but as he pulled John into his arms and John got over his initial surprise and kissed back, he was glad he hadn't; no other kiss could possibly be this perfect.

* * *

**Author's Note: Oh dayum. If you haven't read the title, this is the calm before the storm. I'm going to warn you all now that from here on in for a long, long time, it's going to be depressing. I hope you'll still read and review because I love you all dearly, but as I said, I have this entire story planned out and I swear it will be worth it in the end. **

**Thank you to reflectiveless ***cough* mine *cough***, Tanja88, spitfirelady, Serenityofthematrix, judybear236, ButterscotchCandybatch, TheReturned, . , Cantuono, BenedictScumberbatch, jaimi-or-jaemi, and kittysayzmeow for reviewing!**

**Special thanks to spitfirelady, ButterscotchCandybatch, TheReturned, BenedictScumberbatch, and jaimi-or-jaemi for correctly guessing at least one of the songs.**

**The songs from the last chapter were "Hungry Eyes" from ****_Dirty Dancing_**** and "Kiss the Girl" from ****_The Little Mermaid._**


	7. Almost Perfect

**WARNING: A small amount of sexual content.**

* * *

_"Let's take it slow I don't want to move too fast_  
_I don't wanna just make love, I wanna make love last_  
_When you're up this high, it's a sad goodbye_  
_Don't you wanna stay here a little while_  
_Don't you wanna hold each other tight_  
_Don't you wanna fall asleep with me tonight_  
_Don't you wanna stay here a little while_  
_We can make forever feel this way  
__Don't you wanna stay?"_

_"Please don't make me love you_  
_Please don't make me need you_  
_I've no room in my life_  
_For something like this_  
_..._  
_I grow weak when we talk_  
_I'm confused when we touch_  
_I should just walk away_  
_But that's asking too much"_

_"Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night stand_  
_But I still need love 'cause I'm just a man_  
_These nights never seem to go to plan_  
_I don't want you to leave, will you hold my hand?_  
_Oh, won't you stay with me?_  
_'Cause you're all I need"_

_"No chance, no way_  
_I won't say it, no, no_  
_..._  
_It's too cliche_  
_I won't say I'm in love_  
_I thought my heart had learned its lesson_  
_It feels so good when you start out_  
_My head is screaming get a grip, [boy]_  
_Unless you're dying to cry your heart out"_

* * *

Sherlock had never kissed anyone before in his life — not on the lips, anyway, but that hardly counted as he didn't remember it — but as he pulled John into his arms and John got over his initial surprise and kissed back, he was glad he hadn't; no other kiss could possibly be this perfect.

* * *

Sherlock's head was constantly filled with a cacophony of thoughts: deductions, calculations... the list went on. He never got a break from the _noises_ plaguing his brilliant mind. There was never a single quiet moment. It was even worse without a case to focus on. But, here with John sitting in his lap, grinding against him with their lips never parting for more than a second, the deafening chaos in his brain quieted to a gentle, soothing hum. The only word that was distinguishable in his mind was _John._

At some point during the frenzy of kisses, John had started to unbutton Sherlock's shirt and growled in frustration when his alcohol-slowed hands wouldn't remove the damned thing quickly enough. Sherlock's hands traveled down John's back to his arse, not bothering to help in the least as he pulled the other man even closer to himself, grinding their equally aroused cocks together even harder and more desperately. He grinned when the action elicited the most beautiful moan from John.

"Bloody 'ell, 'Lock," John gasped, tilting his head back in bliss and exposing his delicious neck. Sherlock couldn't resist leaning forward to suck some marks into the lovely skin, claiming John as his. John seemed to remember his mission and fumbled with Sherlock's buttons some more. When he finally got the last button free and exposed Sherlock's chest, his head bent down to kiss it as his hands moved lower, having a lot less difficulty with the detective's trousers.

"Ahhh... John..." Sherlock moaned as John slipped off his trousers and reached into his pants to stroke him. John grinned, kissing Sherlock's neck and biting down on it gently. Sherlock gasped at the sensation. John's thumb flicked over the head of Sherlock's cock and before he could stop himself, Sherlock had blurted out, "I love you."

John instantly froze and Sherlock knew something was wrong. His suspicions were confirmed when John's hand removed itself from his trousers. Sherlock was starting to panic. John couldn't just leave... not now, not after how long he'd waited, how long he'd wanted him.

"John... wait..." he begged, wishing he didn't sound so pathetic.

* * *

John stood up, taking a few steps back, away from Sherlock. His heart was pounding. Sherlock had told him that he loved him... Half of him wanted to kiss Sherlock and say that he loved him too, but that was just the alcohol talking... He couldn't love Sherlock... John was _not_ gay! He took a few more steps back, not meeting Sherlock's eyes so he wouldn't have to see the anguish and heartbreak that the normally reserved man was revealing.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock... I can't... I have to go..." John said and fled to his room, closing the door behind himself and sinking to the floor with his back against it.

His mind wanted to scream at him for leaving like that, but he was too terrified of his own feelings to do anything but sit there, wishing he could turn back time so tonight would never have happened. He didn't want to hurt Sherlock, but he couldn't let himself get hurt again. He'd had his heart broken before and he couldn't let that happen again. He couldn't let himself love Sherlock.

* * *

Sherlock sat in silent agony for a few minutes, hoping against all likelihood that John would come back and it could go back to what it had been before he ruined everything. The pain in his heart was worse than anything he'd ever felt before. He knew that it was stupid to let someone into his heart. Something like this happened every time he did. His parents, his brother, Victor, John... everyone he'd ever cared about had hurt him.

Sherlock vowed never to love again, but he knew that this time was different from the others. He knew he'd never be able to stop loving John. He would just have to learn to live with the pain.

* * *

**Author's Note: I warned you all that this was coming...**

**Thank you all for supporting me and please keep reading. It will have a happy ending... eventually...**

**Thanks to reflectiveless, judybear236, kittysayzmeow, jaimi-or-jaemi, and Laura Finnick Holmes-Watson for reviewing.**

**I'm going to say what last chapter's songs were next chapter so there's still time to guess, since I'm updating so soon.**

**Again, please, please leave a review. I need some support to be able to write this (long) sad part... So if you ever want it to be happy again, please leave a review.**


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